


be right here (love is here)

by boyfrendery



Series: patience [1]
Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Huang Ren Jun-centric, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Smut, a lot of yearning on renjun’s end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boyfrendery/pseuds/boyfrendery
Summary: “Is this,” Renjun trails off, lifting the firm silicone to feel the ridges and swells along its length. The colour is slightly off, a bit too pale and pink, and the weight resting in his hand feels too light, but otherwise… wow. It looks the same every other way.“Xuxi, is this a replica of your dick?”or: renjun leaves for his master's program. lucas gives him a going-away present
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Series: patience [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931506
Comments: 34
Kudos: 268





	be right here (love is here)

**Author's Note:**

> title named after [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3Wozms0IGM) song.
> 
> here to serve some smut to luren nation — enjoy ♡

Renjun paces around their apartment, checking the bedroom and hallway closet for any items he may have forgotten. The clock ticking in their living room is a constant reminder of just how late it is: half past 1am on a Sunday night, long past their usual bedtime. Through the shutters of the living room window is the warm glow of the streetlights, just visible in Renjun’s peripheral vision as he passes by.

Lucas has been oddly silent all evening, resting on the couch as Renjun darts in and out of the rooms. He simply watches Renjun with tired eyes, a witness to all the folding and packing and rearranging of his suitcases. Two years is a long time to pack for.

Renjun’s grateful for the quiet, though: it’s exactly what he needs right now. He’s been worrying about the move for days, slowly throwing things into his suitcases as he remembers them — a bottle of sunblock here, a pair of thick socks there — but there’s only 8 hours until he has to be at the airport and it _still_ doesn’t feel like he’s ready. 

Above the TV the clock continues ticking, the seconds hand revolving with each passing minute. It’s insistent and loud and downright _annoying_ : at every moment that Renjun’s brain stops thinking and there’s silence between his endless stream of thoughts, the clock makes its presence known, filling up the gaps.

He can’t listen any longer. Not to himself or the clock.

“I think this is it for now,” Renjun declares, mostly to reassure himself than for Lucas to hear. He zips up the side of the luggage and pats the top closed. “I’ll look over it in the morning.”

Lucas scoots over on the couch when Renjun approaches, wrapping an arm around Renjun’s waist as he sits next to him. Along his side is Lucas’ fingers pressing into his ribs, holding him close. Comfort settles into Renjun’s body as he leans into his touch and places his head on Lucas’ shoulder. Being with Lucas is as easy as breathing, so naturally part of the way he functions. He doesn’t know how he’s going to last all these upcoming months without him.

Anxiety has been eating Renjun from the inside out, gnawing at him from within the pit of his stomach since he received the acceptance letter for his program. It was a dream come true to get in the mail — he spent too many waking hours concerned about the outcome of his application, brows knitted in worry just thinking about it — until he realized how long two years is, how far away he’d be from the world he’s known. How long it’s been since he’s lived on his own, truly alone. The thought of leaving is terrifying.

He thinks of time and distance, of the space he’s willingly putting between himself and Lucas and _everything_ , and the earliest sign of tears start welling up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He closes them as Lucas swipes his thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tears before they get the chance to fall.

“Hey.” Lucas cups Renjun’s chin, tilting his head until they’re facing each other. “Don’t cry, darling. No tears tonight.”

These soothing words, sweet honey dripping from Lucas' lips. Renjun could listen to him say them over the phone or read his words through text, but being here, hearing the reassurance in his voice and feeling his soft touch… nothing can replace it.

The tears can’t be stopped as they run hot down Renjun’s face, no matter how hard he tells himself to stop crying. Lucas takes his time to wipe all of the tears away, to kiss Renjun’s skin in their wake as he whispers, “I’m still here Renjun, I’m here. I’m right here with you."

He doesn’t need to tell Lucas how he feels right now — all the guilt and longing and fear built up inside of him. He just _knows_. He knew with every night Renjun stayed awake, going through apartment listings, and with every morning he woke up early to go to work, leaving a peck on Lucas’ cheek before his nine hour shift. He knew with each nervous tap of his foot as Renjun called his parents and told them the news, and with the sadness in his eyes when he told their friends he’s moving, and with every kiss he stole from him in the days leading up to his departure, fleeting and desperate like it’s their last. Lucas knows how Renjun feels because he’s been here for all of it, here to assure him that he’s making the right choice and they’ll be okay. They’ve got their whole life to spend together and Lucas will be here when Renjun comes back. They love each other and that's all they need.

The sob Renjun’s been holding in gets caught in his throat. There’s so much he wants to tell Lucas: how much he loves him, how much he already misses him, how things won’t change, absolutely nothing’s going to change between them. Yet he can’t bear to say anything at all. He only sniffles as his eyes open and hopes that Lucas can see it all.

Renjun focuses on steadying his breath, controlling himself with each inhale and exhale. He blinks back more tears until his vision clears again and there— there he is. Lucas, still looking at him, still there to cradle his cheek and look into his eyes, still pressing his fingers into the side of Renjun’s waist to bring him back to earth. 

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Renjun manages to say. “I’m sorry for crying. We shouldn’t be— I shouldn’t be crying on the couch on our last night together.” He forces a laugh. “We should be fucking on it instead. Or sleeping.”

Lucas laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world, like he’s never even heard a single joke in his life before this. His smile spreads across his cheeks, creasing his dimple as he says, “it’s not too late to change that.” 

Renjun laughs away the last of his sobs, replacing the ache in his chest with the joy of Lucas’ laughter. He leans his back against Lucas’ chest and savours the feeling of Lucas’ arms wrapped around him. They rest in the quiet, just them and the _tick-tick-tick_ ing of the clock on the wall, until Lucas yawns and gets up, extending his hand toward Renjun. 

“Should we sleep on the bed?”

Renjun holds his hand, palm warm in his own, and lets Lucas take him back to their room.

  
  
  
  


“Can I bring this hoodie with me?”

Renjun fingers through their shared closet, skimming through hangers and sweaters until he finds one to his satisfaction. He pulls it over his head, immediately comforted by the smell of Lucas’ cologne. All of Renjun’s pajamas have been stowed away in his suitcases — not that he really minds, anyway. Sleeping in Lucas’ clothes has always felt way more comfortable than any of his own.

“Of course.” Lucas pats the pillow next to him with a smile. “Now come over here already. I have something for you.”

Renjun lifts up their blanket and nestles himself against Lucas’ bare torso. Lucas’ sleepwear is basically nonexistent on most days: always shirtless, mainly boxers on the bottom with the addition of shorts or pants on a really cold day.

Today, it’s nothing.

“And what do you have for me?” Renjun questions, eyes drawn to Lucas’ cock. It’s half hard already, swelling against his stomach, and yup, he’s definitely gonna miss _that_. 

“Close your eyes,” Lucas answers. Renjun obeys, covering his eyes with fingers pressed over his lids, shut tight.

Lucas shuffles around the side of the bed, weight shifting beneath them as he gets up and pads across the room. When he sits back on the bed, Renjun feels a small box resting on his legs.

“Okay, open your eyes.”

In his lap is a black gift box wrapped in a dark red ribbon, knotted into a perfect bow. Renjun pulls on the ribbon, letting the silk fall onto the side of the bed. He lifts the lid of the box and—

“Xuxi,” Renjun says, mouth ajar. Did he… did he really?

Renjun moves aside the first layer of tissue paper to get a better look at the gift inside. It’s— he really did that, huh.

“Is this,” Renjun trails off, lifting the firm silicone to feel the ridges and swells along its length. The colour is slightly off, a bit too pale and pink, and the weight resting in his hand feels too light, but otherwise… _wow_. It looks the same every other way.

Lucas looks at Renjun with a hint of pride behind his smile.

“Xuxi, is this a replica of your dick?”

In response, Lucas uncovers the blankets, pulling out his now fully erect penis.

Yup, it is.

“I figured you could use it when you miss me. It vibrates too.” Lucas looks down, pulling the bed sheet over his body. He fiddles with his fingers in his lap and bites his bottom lip. “What do you think?”

Renjun can’t decide if he wants to laugh at the absurdity — a dildo! In the shape of his boyfriend’s dick! — or cry, because despite how weird this might be it’s still… strangely sweet? And so like Lucas, to think of taking care of him this way.

He sets the toy back into the box (along with a bottle of lube — Lucas really thought of everything) and places it on the night table.

“Thank you, Xuxi. I love it.” Renjun crawls on top of Lucas, straddling his lap. His hand cups Lucas’ face and caresses his cheek. “I love you.”

Lucas’ hands find Renjun’s waist, holding him under the sweater draped over his shoulders. “I love you too.”

Renjun presses his ass against Lucas’ cock, watching a red flush spread from his boyfriend’s cheeks down to his neck. He leans down to kiss Lucas on the lips and says with a whisper, “let me feel you for the last time.”

He can sleep on the plane.

  
  
  
  


Renjun doesn’t have _time_ to be horny.

Two months have passed since school started and he’s already so busy, too busy to have the time or energy to wank. He thinks of Lucas still — every day his thoughts go to his boyfriend, the man half a day ahead and ten thousand kilometres away, probably asleep under the weight of their blankets right now — but he just. He hasn’t had time to unwind that way, to let his mind remember the feeling of Lucas’ palm against his ass, the wide-eyed sensation of Lucas thrusting into him as he presses kisses along his jaw, tender and loving and wanting, always wanting all Renjun has to offer him. He’s too busy to think of that.

This program is drowning him in work and he’s already sinking low, pulled down by the stress of school and the weight of anxiety. Even though he misses his friends, his partner, his family, misses everyone at home with every muscle and bone in his body, he’s a little glad there isn’t anyone to distract him. Renjun’s made two friends so far and, while their companionship is invaluable, they get it: they get the work grind, the constant labs and lectures, the hours cooped up in their faculty’s library with headphones in and the world out. They understand the importance and the pressure, and they lean on each other through it. 

Renjun has a lot more on the line than they do. There’s a certain risk in any professional pursuit and it weighs only heavier when it involves flying across the world and leaving home behind. But it’s worth it. He’ll make it worth the time away for the people he has to come back to.

So in short: Renjun hasn’t had time to be horny.

Not until this moment at 4pm on a Saturday afternoon when boredom strikes him midway through his movie binge. A long weekend has blown through the city, emptying out lecture halls and taking Dejun and Yangyang back to their hometowns. They offered for Renjun to come along with either of them (a kind offer not to spend the weekend alone, which he was thankful for) but he needs this time for himself. He needs these full two days of relaxation, freedom to not think of courses or deadlines or meeting up with his friends. He will relax on his own.

And he figures — well, he figures that jerking off the tension in his body is one of the best ways for him to instantly relax.

He closes his laptop and walks over to his luggage, still spread on the floor of his bedroom. The zipper loudly rips through the air as he opens it, the first time he’s done so in weeks. All his clothes are tucked away into the dressers and closets in the apartment, each pair of shoes lined up near the door, the bottles of skincare and toiletries stocked in the washroom. Everything has found its rightful place in the apartment except for Lucas’ gift.

Renjun pulls out the box — still wrapped as it was given to him — and tosses it onto his bed. He takes his time to make sure everything in his room is ready: he closes the curtains, shutting out the afternoon sunshine; he sets out a towel and water, to take care of himself after; he picks out a sexy playlist, setting the mood and his mind in the right headspace. The atmosphere needs to be comfortable for him to _truly_ relax.

A stream of slow songs play as he sits motionless on his bed. Staring at the box is intimidating, to say the least. It’s been years since he last used one of these and now that he’s thinking about it, does he even remember what it’s like? Does he know _how_ to get off on his own anymore? Will he enjoy it?

(Lucas’s very real, very beautiful cock is all Renjun really wants to fulfill his needs.)

Renjun shakes off the nerves and peels off his sweats and shirt, letting his clothes fall onto a pile on the carpet. His skin rises with goosebumps as he lays on top of his bed, the box sitting next to his pillow, and he begins to stroke himself slowly, dragging his hand along his length. 

His eyes close and his body warms up, blood rushing to his cock. This isn’t anything new — he can be confident in this part at least.

He quickens his pace, pumping himself until he grows hard in his palm. Behind his eyes he envisions Lucas in the other room, in the bathroom, somewhere close — wishing he was near, ready to accompany him at any moment, ready to kiss him and stroke his hair until he cums.

Just as Renjun is getting there, tension pooling in his stomach, waiting for its release, he stops and opens his eyes. He sits up and looks around the room.

It’s empty and he’s alone, which… he should be used to this by now. And he is. But that doesn’t make the constant loneliness hurt any less.

His cock twitches in his hand and Renjun remembers _why_ he’s here, laying naked on a Saturday afternoon. He grabs the box next to him and throws off the lid, flipping the box upside down to empty its contents all over the bed.

The dildo drops onto the mattress with a soft thud, followed by the bottle of lube and all the tissue paper surrounding it. As Renjun sets the box down and stuffs the tissue paper back inside, he notices something stuck to the bottom: a small, white envelope, closed by a red seal.

He carefully peels the envelope from the tape on the box and rips the paper around the wax seal. He reaches into it and takes out a small paper stock, signed with Lucas’ neatest handwriting:

 _in case you need any help  
_ _xuxi ♡_

And inside—

Oh, Lucas is gonna get the best blowjob of his _life_ when Renjun gets back home. Suck the soul right out of his dick.

Inside the envelope are two small Polaroid pictures: white-bordered selfies of Lucas, fully nude with his cock out and hard in his hand. He’s smiling in one of them, bright teeth and bliss across his cheeks, while he bites his lip in the other, intensely staring into the camera. The fucking audacity.

Renjun’s gotta hand it to him, though: Lucas did a great job. His dick is near throbbing against his stomach at the sight of these photos. 

He places the pictures on the bed, still within his line of sight, and reaches for the lube, tearing off the plastic and pumping it generously onto his fingers. He rests comfortably on his back, reaching toward his rim to spread the excess lube around his hole. It’s cool and tender to the touch but he works himself gently, taking time to breathe and just relax, let go of the knots in his shoulders and lay limp on the bed.

He shuts his eyes as he slides the first finger in, so painstakingly slow, holding his breath with every millimetre he pushes inside himself. The way it stings inside him is agonizing, almost too painful to bear, and he briefly considers pulling out the finger and calling it a day. His eyes open for a moment and wander to the photos, still next to him on the bed, and he reaches his free hand to bring them closer. 

With the stunning reminder of how _hot_ his boyfriend is, whether smiling wide or smoldering into the camera, Renjun picks up more speed and looks at the photos, pumping his finger in and out with greater ease. Once he’s stretched enough, relaxed and comfortable to move on, he pumps out a bit more lube and coats his fingers again, sliding in his ring and middle fingers together. His mouth falls open at the feeling, the fullness finally bordering satisfaction, and he crooks his fingers up _just_ a bit, curving his fingertips to press against his prostate.

It leaves him gasping for air because fuck, it’s been so long since he’s had to pleasure himself like this. He moans loud, just for him to hear, and thinks of how good it’d feel for Lucas to hear him now, to know how well he can take care of himself with only a glance of his nudes.

Renjun thinks of Lucas, his plump lips, his large hands and sculpted back muscles, the dips in his spine and the way his cock swells at the mere sight of Renjun naked and— and he has to stop fingering himself now because, yeah, it’s been a _long_ time since he’s last done this, and if he doesn’t fucking control himself he’s gonna cum without even getting to use what he’s prepping himself for: his boyfriend-shaped dildo.

He takes out his fingers and sighs, shaky and heavy from the loss of feeling. With trembling arms he pulls himself to sit upright and grabs the dildo. The silicone is cold from neglect so he warms it up with his palms, slicked with lube.

As he massages it to a better temperature, he can’t help but notice just how real it feels, to hold onto this Lucas-shaped dick that fits into his hand just as well as the real thing. It lacks the warmth, the tanned glow of his skin, the way Lucas’ pulse throbs through the thin skin on the underside of his cock, but it’s. It’s good. 

It’s as close as Renjun’s going to get, being a whole ocean’s apart from Lucas, and he is utterly grateful to even be holding this replica in his hands. Jerking off abroad wasn’t on the top of his priority list and Lucas thought of solutions to a problem he didn’t think he had. He’s a real sweetheart.

When it feels right and he feels mentally ready, Renjun uses the leftover lube to coat his rim once more. He lays down on his pillow again, head resting at an angle to see himself, and lines up the dildo to his ass, pressing lightly at the entrance. 

In hindsight, he probably should’ve taken more time to work himself open, stretch it out because this dildo is definitely to-scale, and Lucas has always been proud of how gifted he is. When he pushes the dildo inside himself, it feels like his body is about to be ripped in half, pushing against his walls. It’s dizzying and makes him forget how to breathe completely, biting onto his lips and gripping his sheets until it’s midway in, and then he finally lets out a long, ragged sigh when he slips it further inside.

Renjun rests for a moment, letting his body adjust to the size. He takes a deep breath and pushes the dildo in and out of himself, watching the fake cock disappear beneath him. He needs to close his eyes and focus on the slow drag, the slick pull of each thrust, because this feels _exactly_ like Lucas, in length and girth and everything inside him, yet he’s not here to breathe alongside him, to moan his name and tell him how good he feels around him. Renjun sees darkness when he shuts his lids, just revelling in how good it feels to be filled up like this, and he’s got enough imagination to convince himself for a split second that he’s not alone.

Lucas is always with him: in his heart, on his mind, in the closet where his sweater hangs and on the background of his phone. He’s here and everywhere, yet Renjun just wants no more than to be in bed with him, have Lucas right here to feel him with all his senses, to smell and see and hear and touch and taste him, to just kiss him once. Because fucking into himself with a cock like Lucas’ means _nothing_ , absolutely nothing if he isn’t here to use it himself, to make him feel the electricity underneath the surface of his skin and bring him to life. It doesn’t mean anything.

Renjun props himself onto his knees and sets the dildo in position, flicking the vibration setting on and letting it writhe inside him. When he finally, _finally_ cums, rippling through him as white spurts shoot across his clean sheets, it’s with eyes shut: he cums to the touch of Lucas holding his ass on his mind, the taste of his lips on his breath, and the sound of Lucas’ name, uttered over and over until he can no longer speak.

  
  
  
  


Renjun doesn’t take out the toy for a while. He gives it a home underneath his bed, always within reach but never reaching for it. The last time he used it made him feel relaxed — an immaculate orgasm that did wonders for his mind _and_ his body — but it also made him miss Lucas even more. He’s been longing for him in every other way before that but to have a taste of him, have a simulated touch without the feeling behind it… no, he doesn’t bother to bring it out for a while. 

He gets off on his fingers alone, using the lube and the photos to supplement his de-stressing sessions, fingers either tight in his ass or curled around his dick. He shuts his eyelids and cums, his body easing when he comes down from the high, and he still sees Lucas when he opens his eyes.

One night, after he cleans the jizz off his stomach and showers the rest of his stress away, Renjun makes a mental note to buy a camera and some stamps.

  
  
  
  
  


Renjun’s walking across campus with Dejun and Yangyang when he gets a message from Lucas. 

**lucas** : junnie

Snow falls continuously around them, carried west by a wind that whips around the scarf hanging from Renjun’s neck. His hands are freezing in the cold but he takes off his gloves anyway, fingers shivering as he types back. 

**renjun** : yes :)  
**lucas** : i picked up some mail today  
**renjun** : oh!  
**lucas** : and mark was with me  
**renjun** : o  
**lucas** : i opened it in front of him  
**lucas** : and he nearly saw the photos  
**renjun** : oh :(  
**lucas** : but he didn’t :D  
**renjun** : oh thank god

“Hey Renjun, what photos?” Yangyang is peering over his shoulder, glancing at Renjun’s screen as they cross the street. He can be a little too curious at times — Renjun’s sure it’ll bite him in the ass in the future.

“Nudes,” Renjun deadpans, throwing his scarf across his shoulder. It hits Yangyang in the face, covering him with snow.

 **lucas** : thank you, my darling. i love you  
**renjun** : i love you too. miss you so much

“You did not send him nudes.”

Dejun helps Yangyang dust off the snow from his hat and shoulders. “They’ve been together for 6 years. They’ve totally sent nudes.”

 **lucas** : i’m naked right now  
**renjun** : yeah? ;)

“He’s WHAT.”

Yangyang gets smacked on the back of the head by Dejun as they enter the health sciences building. “Mind your own business, dude.”

Renjun lowers the brightness on his screen and brings it closer to his face. He doesn’t spare a look in the direction of his friends, too busy watching the three dots disappear and reappear on his screen.

 **lucas** : yeah ;) thinking about you. wish you were here  
**lucas** : i miss you too :(  
**lucas** : can’t wait to see you again

He’s in love, so _so_ in love with Lucas, and seeing the last message makes him want to hop on the next plane home. _Again_ can’t come any sooner.

 **renjun** : soon, my sweetheart  
**renjun** : good night, xuxi  
**lucas** : good morning, baobei

They arrive at their functional anatomy class and sit in their typical spots in the second row. Renjun locks his phone and puts it in his bag, ignoring the way his heart hurts in his chest.

 _Soon_ , he lies to himself. They’ll see each other soon.

  
  
  
  
  


The rest of the school year is rough. Not just because of the heavy workload and the nonstop courses from January straight through to July, but because of the cold. The first snowstorm barrels through city, keeping Renjun inside on the first day of the new term, and the whole campus shuts down. 

“Do you have food at your place?” Renjun asks Dejun, closing his fridge door. He ran out of oatmeal packets and frozen pizzas the morning before the storm and didn’t bother going to the grocery store for food because it was _cold_. His backup plan last night was to order takeout. 

That plan is now biting him in the ass.

“ _Yeah, but you don’t even own winter boots yet, ya dummy. You can’t even walk outside without stepping into calf-high snow_.” Dejun sighs into the phone. “ _I’ll be there in thirty_.”

Dejun braves the cold walk all the way to Renjun’s apartment with the promise of instant ramen — Yangyang arrives with him, hot chocolate and marshmallows in his hands and white snowflakes in both of their hair. They spend the night sipping comforting drinks in front of the TV and fall asleep on the living room floor. Renjun’s heart stays warm for the rest of the winter.

As the seasons change and exams come and go, Renjun witnesses the beauty of winter transforming into spring when the ice on his window sill melts and patches of green pop up on the football field. The trees on campus bud and their flowers fall, the birds in his neighbourhood come home to sing. Soon the third term is done and Renjun is ready for the one month he has off of studying, for the month of true summer he gets to enjoy before throwing himself into his second (and last) year of school.

He spends the greater part of August going downtown, seeing what the city can really be like when the weather’s warm and people are on the streets. He takes pictures for himself and his Instagram, eats carnival food until his belly aches. He watches glimmering sunsets along the harbour, terracotta blurring into the blues of the lake, and fills his sketchbook with drawings of sparkling skyscrapers and distant horizons. He swims in his apartment’s outdoor pool, head above the water, staying afloat.

When Yangyang invites him to sleepover one night after a late evening out, they stay up past dawn playing Mario Kart with Dejun and sip cheap wine until they can barely make it through two laps on Rainbow Road. They tell embarrassing stories from undergrad and they laugh, laugh all night until Renjun’s cheeks burn when he smiles and he can barely catch his breath.

And when he rests his head on Dejun’s lap or falls asleep in the friendly comfort of Yangyang’s arms, he forgets about home for the night and thinks about how much he’ll miss his friends when he leaves.

  
  
  
  
  


Autumn comes and the new school year starts.

Renjun’s flung into the term face forward, all his energy put into doing well in his courses and working on his research project. He dives into the routine of study, study, _studying_ , spending even more time on his own.

Maybe he’s used to this by now. Maybe he’s used to coming home to the quiet, slinking into his sheets after a long day with only the comfort of himself to hold, lulled to sleep by just the warmth of his breath underneath his blankets. He makes meals for one in his kitchen, puts on music or Netflix to fill the silence as he cleans or studies. He takes himself out on days when he can’t bring himself to cook and eats cereal for dinner when he wants to stay in. Maybe being alone isn’t as hard as he thought.

But he’s never really alone, not really. He talks to Lucas daily: they text their good mornings and good nights, call each other in the few hours they share awake and keep each other updated on the whos and whats and wheres of their lives apart. Renjun tells Lucas about the developing romance between Dejun and Yangyang (“ _They both suck at flirting. Sometimes I just wanna shove their faces together and make them kiss._ ”) and he learns about Lucas’ social life in the office (“ _Baobei, Hendery is the funniest person I’ve ever met. You’ll love him._ ”). He messages his mom and dad, keeps up his Snapchat streak with Donghyuck, sporadically plays Anagrams with Jaemin, and likes all of Jeno’s informative Facebook posts. There’s always social media to keep him updated on his loved ones, their adventures at home or around the world. He’s glad he can stay connected to everyone in some way, no matter how small. 

So when Mark proposes to Donghyuck on a cold November evening, Renjun learns about it through their posts on his feed: a shiny ring across his screen, the smiles on their faces, and the longest, cheesiest caption in the world. 

He looks at the picture, scrolls through the comments, and turns off his phone for the night.

Renjun’s happy for them, so happy for them because _finally —_ they’ve basically been married since elementary school. It’s about time they got engaged.

And he’s also bitter, resent knotting in his stomach, and he’s jealous, so, so, _so_ jealous. He wishes he could be in their place right now, at home with his partner, not in this room by himself on a chilly autumn night. He wishes he could place a ring on Lucas’ finger and tell everyone he’s going to be _his_ , forever. He wishes he could come home to Lucas every night and wake up to him every day. He wishes and wishes and wishes.

He can try to convince himself that he’s content with loneliness and keep himself busy enough to forget, but it always comes back to him at night.

Renjun sips the mug in his hand, his tea gone lukewarm, and looks around his apartment. Alone.

He grabs his laptop from his desk and pulls open the browser, searching for round-trip flights to Seoul. He sighs.

He closes the screen and falls asleep with the lights on.

  
  
  
  
  


Renjun wakes up the next day to the blinding sight of his ceiling light and the forgotten mug on his nightstand. The leftover tea leaves have all sunk to the bottom, left overnight to darken the liquid inside. He instinctively sips the cup and is met with a cold, bitter taste. 

When he opens up his laptop out of habit, his screen mocks him with flight numbers and dollar signs attached to four digits. His heart breaks again.

It’s a grim reminder that he can’t afford a flight home — he knew that before typing it into the search bar yet he stubbornly looked it up last night anyway.

He _knows_ , knows so well that he’s in no place to be able to go home. They’ve always had a plan and staying here was all part of it, the long-term sacrifice they both agreed to make. Lucas working full-time, taking overtime hours and minimal vacation days, while Renjun pursues his second degree so he can get a job he actually loves instead of just a shitty job he tolerates.

They laid on their bed, pinkies locked together, and promised to build a future together. They’d be careful with their money and save for a house, for a home with more bedrooms and bathrooms, a home with wide kitchen counters to fill with useless appliances and enough space to host a party. They’d save for a ring and their wedding and their honeymoon, for Lucas’ dream vacation and Renjun’s energetic puppy, because they want all of that and _more_. They want the world. Together.

The time apart is tough. The distance is tough. _Absence makes the heart grow fonder_ , he reminds himself. They’ll be together soon.

He flops back onto his bed, shielding himself from the ceiling light. _Absence can suck a dick._

  
  
  
  
  


When life becomes too much and the strain of school sits in knots on his back, Renjun copes with his second year stress like this:

“Fuck,” Renjun breathes into his phone, barely gripping onto it anymore. He has three fingers buried deep into himself, lube trickling down his thighs, and Lucas just laughs into his mic as he gets ready for work.

“ _Putting you on speaker._ ” Renjun hears Lucas place his cell on something, probably the dresser next to their mirror. “ _Let me hear you._ ”

They should’ve done this months ago. He’s surprised it’s taken so long for either of them to propose phone sex. How do long-distance relationships work without it?

Renjun curls his fingers once more, hitting the spot that makes him forget his own name, and turns his body, resting his forehead on his pillow. He moans into the phone, barely any words anymore, just exasperated breaths as he continues thrusting.

“ _You don’t know how badly I wanna fuck you right now_.” 

Lucas’ voice is a little distant. Renjun can make out the sounds of his crisp dress shirt as Lucas’ hand runs down the length of his torso, smoothing it out in front of the mirror. Lucas does this every day.

“ _Oh! I bought a new suit_ ,” Lucas continues. His voice is clearer when he says, “ _got a gift card from your parents and I used it to buy a velvet jacket and matching pants. I think you’ll like it._ ”

“I’d like,” Renjun exhales, grabbing his phone to bring it close to his mouth, “to see it on you. And then take it off.”

“ _Yeah? Tell me about it_.” Renjun can hear Lucas’ smirk on the other end. Cocky bastard.

Renjun takes his fingers out and prepares the dildo in his hands, smothering it in gratuitous amounts of lube. “I’d take off the blazer first.” Renjun positions himself, ass in the air. “Your pants next, off with your boxers.” He presses the dildo against himself. “Drag you to the bed by, _ahh_ ,” he exhales, pushing the cock into himself, “by your tie.”

He begins a steady rhythm with the dildo, concentrating on the faint sound of Lucas’ breath on the other end. “Unbutton your shirt and kiss your chest.” 

Lucas’ mouth is close to the phone, a smile in his voice as he says, “ _anything else, my love?”_

It’s unfair. He hates how calm Lucas sounds, just casually starting his day as Renjun fucks himself before bed. He closes his eyes and increases speed, groaning against the mic. “Suck you off before I ride you.”

Lucas hums on his side. “ _And I’d fuck you until you cum untouched._ ”

Pure music to his ears. Renjun picks up his phone and moves it down the bed, closer to his ass for Lucas to hear. He thrusts harder, not bothering to muffle his cries into his pillow, and uses Lucas’ words of encouragement to chase his orgasm.

“ _You close?_ ” There are footsteps on the other end, dress shoes walking on their kitchen tiles.

“So close.”

“ _Cum for me, baby_.”

And that’s all it takes for him to come undone: Renjun whines with Lucas’ name on the tip of his tongue, high-pitched and loud, as he hits his peak.

He slowly, gently, pulls the dildo from himself, gasping when it’s out, and falls onto the bed, all the muscles and nerves in his body relaxing. When he can finally breathe again and form a coherent thought, he turns his head towards the phone and says, “I love you, Xuxi. Happy birthday.”

“ _Thanks, baobei. I love you._ ” Lucas’ kisses the phone, a small audible smooch into the mic as he steps out of their apartment. “ _Sweet dreams._ ”

The phone cuts to silence and Renjun ends the call. He feels gross, his forehead sticky with sweat, thighs aching, cum on his bed, but he’s so tired, so exhausted, and he doesn’t have it in him to get up. Instead, he pushes aside the toy and phone and crawls under the covers. He decides to fall asleep like that: he’ll rest well tonight, dream sweet dreams with his body curled into himself, tightly hugging his pillow. Tomorrow he can clean himself.

Tonight, he’ll dream of cake and candles, of fingers running through his hair and a birthday boy in his arms, someone he loves more than life itself.

  
  
  
  
  


Five months pass until the mutual pining between Yangyang and Dejun finally comes to an end. They accept that there are _real_ feelings between them sometime during the day of their research project presentations. Renjun finds out about it via text two days later. He congratulates them with a dozen birthday cake-flavoured donut holes and a box of condoms. 

Right now he’s watching his friends canoodle on the couch, Dejun aimlessly fiddling with Yangyang’s hair in his lap. It’s the last weekend before the start of their senior clinical placements: the final part of their program, six more weeks before it’s all over. The three of them are half a bottle of whiskey into the night, paired alongside two boxes of pizza and a _Sex Education_ binge. They’re chilling in the basement of Yangyang’s family home, the rest of the house entirely empty. 

(“They go to Germany every summer,” Yangyang told Renjun at the start of the term break. “You can stay at my place if you want. Dejun will be here anyway.”)

The couple on screen is in the middle of having an argument when Yangyang asks, “have you ever thought of breaking up with Lucas?”

Renjun pauses for a moment at the question. “Only when he steals all the blanket at night,” he jokes, setting down his glass on the table. The box of pizza is empty when he lifts the lid, pouting in search of the last slice that’s nowhere to be seen. “Otherwise I’d say we’re pretty solid.”

“That must be nice,” Dejun says, glancing over at Yangyang. “Do you two fight a lot?”

“I’ve never heard him say a bad thing about that guy,” Yangyang retorts. “It’s always heart eyes and _love_ when he talks about Lucas. He sounds like a dream.”

Renjun laughs, giggles at what his friends have to say about Lucas, because Yangyang’s right: Lucas _is_ a dream, his dream, the one that he’s been holding onto all this time. He clings and clings onto it, working himself toward the goal of finishing this degree and going home, of pursuing his career with the man he loves by his side.

“Physio was my dream first, though. He helped me see that.”

They’re all so close to the end, just a half dozen weeks of placement left and they’ll be done. By September they will call themselves _professionals_ , able to work in clinics and take patients of their own. Renjun won’t be there for graduation — convocation is in November, too long for him to stay back — but he’ll be there in spirit, with Dejun and Yangyang and the rest of their class as they put on their robes and cross the stage. He’ll be home that day, halfway around the world in his bed, livestreaming the ceremony from laptop screen with pride.

Renjun pours another round of whiskey for all of them. “To us.” He lifts his glass high into the air as he says, “for working hard and fulfilling our dreams. We’ll be killer therapists.” 

The alcohol washes over his tongue when he tips the glass back, drinking in their honour.

(“I think being killer therapists is the complete opposite of what we’re trained to do.”

“Yeah, _I’m_ not trying to kill anyone. I’m tryna help people walk again.”

Renjun throws a pillow at the lovebirds.)

  
  
  
  
  


It’s bittersweet.

Renjun relives the familiar scene of packing his belongings: he rolls up his sleeves and ties his hair back, pushing away any stray strands and lingering thoughts. The week leading up to his flight has been spent emptying out his fridge and cupboards of any food — his last meal at home is takeout from his favourite Thai restaurant down the street, eaten on the living room floor, feet pressed into the carpet. Pop music acts as the soundtrack for the night, background noise as he puts away everything he’s brought with him.

It comes together in pieces: he walks through the small place, rolling his clothes and stuffing his socks in his shoes, letting one luggage fill up, then the other, until his life perfectly fits into two TSA-approved carriers. This time, there’s no Lucas on the couch, or clock on the wall, or anxiety eating him alive. Only bittersweet relief.

  
  
  
  
  


Dejun and Yangyang show up early to drive him to the airport, breakfast sandwiches and coffee in their hands.

They help lug his baggage into Dejun’s small car, stuffing both suitcases in its trunk, and Renjun sits in the backseat as his two friends chatter away in the front. The radio plays a dozen chart-toppers before they get to the airport terminal and Renjun doesn’t hear any of them. He only listens to the sound of his friends as they talk, ingraining the timbre of their voices and resonance of their laughter in his mind.

He isn’t sad about going home. He’s excited, so fucking excited to be home again. He wants to climb five flights of stairs up to his apartment, use his favourite pair of chopsticks to eat dinner, and lay on his couch under the weight of their worn-out red blanket. He wants to crawl back into the arms of the boy he left at home, into the embrace of his mom and dad, into the chokehold of his dumb friends.

But he doesn’t want to say goodbye. Not to the two people he’s gotten so used to being around, every day and every class, a trio inseparable. Leaving always weighs so heavily on his heart.

He does so anyway with a held breath and a sworn promise to see each other again in the future.

“Invite us to your wedding!” Yangyang says. “We need an excuse to visit Korea.”

Renjun keeps that thought in the back of his mind, filed away for when the time comes. He squeezes both of them tightly when they hug, rubbing Yangyang on the back and chuckling into Dejun’s ear, and bids them goodbye one last time, their voices fading further and further.

  
  
  
  
  


Renjun lifts his suitcases onto the airport trolley, piling them high until they’re stable on the cart, and then pushes it toward the exit. It’s Thursday evening when he finally lands in Seoul, tired and not so well rested from the 13 hour flight.

He sends a quick text to Lucas when he’s past security and checks his messages. Airplane mode has been off for all of five minutes and his phone is already flooded with notifications from Yangyang and Dejun, their group chat an endless stream of memes. He makes a mental note to answer them later and pushes his phone into his back pocket.

As he walks his way through the crowds, passing by other travellers from his flight, his eyes scan for a tall man with a familiar face. A millisecond of panic overtakes him as he glances around, unable to see him among the sea of people. It takes a few more steps around the Arrivals area to spot him, his head faced in the opposite direction. He turns around, swivelling in his spot to look in Renjun’s directions, and beams at him when their eyes meet.

Seeing Lucas again is like stretching himself toward the light above the water, breaking its surface to finally breathe in the brilliance of the sun: its rays reach Renjun’s skin, surrounding him in warmth, and everything else fades away.

Renjun bolts across the airport, leaving his cart behind in favour of launching himself into Lucas’ arms. The impact of the hug makes Lucas stumble backwards, nearly bumping into the men standing behind him. 

He finds his balance again and holds Renjun tight, stroking his back. He kisses the top of his head and says, “missed me, huh?”

“Shut up.” Renjun smiles into Lucas’ jacket, unable to contain his happiness. He leans into Lucas’ chest, their bodies fitting perfectly together. When Renjun finally pulls back, he takes a good look up and down to check out his boyfriend in full: the shiny business shoes, the velvet blue suit, the styled up hair, the bouquet of flowers in his hand. “You look good. Very grown-up.”

It’s funny how one look from Renjun can make Lucas shrink down and become a timid little kid. He’s shy under Renjun’s stare, peering down at his clothes and feet. As he meets his eyes again with a sheepish smile, Lucas extends his arm forward to offer the bouquet. “These are for you, baobei. Welcome home.”  
  
Blush creeps up on Renjun’s cheeks, tinting them as pink as the carnations in his hands. It’s been a long time since he’s received flowers. “Thank you, Xuxi.”

Lucas looks behind Renjun, one eyebrow raised when he notices Renjun’s empty hands. “We should get your cart.”

Renjun looks over his shoulder, toward a clearing where his stuff sits untouched. A continuous stream of people flows through the airport, moving all around where they stand. 

“We should.” He takes a step closer, cupping Lucas’ chin between his fingers. “But first,” he pauses, gaze flickering between Lucas’ eyes and lips, “kiss me.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Lucas was right: Renjun likes his velvet suit.

He likes the way it looks around Lucas’ arms and thighs, how it perfectly hugs the toned muscle hidden underneath. Lucas lifts both of Renjun’s suitcases into the apartment, rolling them into the living room.

He likes how it feels against his chest and around his body as Lucas carries him across the apartment. Renjun holds onto Lucas’ shoulders and wraps his legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the velvet brushing against his wrists and ankles.

He likes the scent clinging to it, Lucas’ cologne seeping into the hem of the jacket. Lucas lays Renjun down on their bed and Renjun nuzzles his nose into Lucas’ neck, melting into the notes of ambrox and sandalwood.

He likes the way it falls down Lucas’ shoulders, drops down his legs and pools at his ankles into a heap of blue velvet on the floor, leaving Lucas in just a crisp white button-up and a tie. He undoes the tie with a swift jerk of his arm, black silk cascading down his torso, and then unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt, just enough room for Renjun to press his palm against his heart.

And Renjun loves, _loves_ how he forgets about the suit altogether: how Lucas’ lips slotting against his makes him forget everything and anything that isn’t his hands roaming his sides, his tongue in his mouth, or his hips grinding against him. Because Renjun’s finally here, he’s finally home, and nothing else in the world matters anymore. There’s only Lucas.

  
  
  
  
  


The shutters of their bedroom window are open when Renjun wakes up the next morning. That’s how he knows he’s home: the daylight streams through their slits, gradually brightening their room as the sun fills the sky. He doesn’t wake up in darkness.

Renjun turns over to look at Lucas, observing the way the sunshine dances on his skin in the morning. It’s still early and his body is lagging half a day behind but he forces himself to stay awake, blinking away the fatigue. He passes time without any words, content with the quiet sound of Lucas’ chest rising and falling like an ocean’s tide, the highs and lows bobbing in their own time. Half his torso is hidden in their blankets while the other half basks uncovered, soaking in the sun.

Renjun leans over to place a kiss on his boyfriend’s parted lips, gentle enough to not wake him up, and lays back onto his half of the bed. Lucas stirs in his sleep, brows furrowing before he rolls onto his side, body slumped in Renjun’s direction.

Looking at Lucas up close is utterly breathtaking, every feature on his face stealing the air from Renjun’s lungs. Time has done him a ton of favours, aging the last bits of baby fat on his face into chiseled cheekbones and a defined jaw. He’s grown more handsome, the man of Renjun’s dreams come to life. He’s beautiful.

But some parts remain unchanged: the strong point of his nose, the pink tint of his lips, the thick shape of his eyebrows. The way his ears stick out a bit and the small silver hoops he hangs on them. His smile, still blindingly bright.

Lucas starts snoring, low and guttural. That hasn’t changed either.

Renjun takes it as his cue to leave him be and let his boyfriend get his rest. He carefully sneaks out of bed, tiptoeing across the room to head for the kitchen. Their pantry is surprisingly well-stocked when he opens it: a couple boxes of cookies, cans of soup, a bag of chips in the back. Renjun pulls out the pancake mix and starts cooking for two.

He’s in the middle of pouring the fourth pancake when feels a pat on the butt, playful and cheeky. A pair of arms slips around his torso, holding him in a tight embrace with fingers intertwined on his stomach.

“Good morning, darling.” Lucas’ voice sounds deeper this morning, raspy in all the right ways. He buries his head into Renjun’s shoulder and smiles into it. “Mmmm, pancakes. You’re the best.”

Lucas has thrown on the zip-up hoodie that Renjun wore home from the airport, the sleeves too short on Lucas’ arms. Against his back Renjun can feel the hardened muscles of Lucas’ bare chest leaning on him, pressing into his shoulder blades. He has to take a deep breath to calm down his horny brain because Lucas is so _sexy_ , even with a hint of morning breath in his mouth and grogginess in his voice, and he wants to turn around and kiss his sleepiness away.

Except there’s some batter left in the mixing bowl and the rest of their meal needs to be made. Breakfast is the priority right now, no matter how much Renjun wants to skip it and go straight to having Lucas for himself.

He inhales once more and flips the pancake on the pan. Exhale. The pancake is perfectly golden. 

“I’m almost done, Xuxi. Can you boil some water?”

Lucas hums in agreement, walking away to fill their electric kettle and start the coffee maker. The inviting aroma of brewed coffee and pancakes fills their home as Renjun continues cooking, stacking flapjacks until both plates on the counter are full.

Renjun flicks his wrist to turn off the stove and puts the spatula into the sink, content with cleaning up their dishes later. As Renjun carries the plates to the table, Lucas gathers their utensils and takes the maple syrup from the fridge.

“I made you green tea,” he says, setting down a mug next to Renjun’s plate. He grins at him from across the table and pours syrup over his pancake pile. “Thanks for cooking breakfast.”

Renjun sips his mug with a smile. He reaches to hold Lucas’ hand, stroking his thumb along the ridges of his knuckles. “Anytime.”

Too occupied with eating and not worried at all with talking, they devour their pancakes in silence. Renjun doesn’t mind the quiet: the clock in the living room ticks, as it always does, and he’s only reminded of how much time has passed with his boyfriend and how much more there will be. He’s not going anywhere. 

When all that’s left on their plates is a sticky glaze of leftover syrup, Renjun gathers the dirty dishes and places them in the sink. As he’s about to put on gloves and start cleaning, Lucas sneaks up behind him and picks him up, placing him on the counter.

“Hey!” Renjun protests, but he’s trapped between the cabinet behind his head and Lucas, standing in the space between his legs. His large hands massage Renjun’s thighs, thumbs pressing onto his inner thighs to spread his legs further apart.

“Hey,” is all Lucas says with a smirk on his lips and a quirk of his brow, as charming as ever. He kisses Renjun on the lips, the taste of syrup on his tongue, and Renjun completely melts into it, closing his eyes as he leans in. His hand finds Lucas’ hair, twirling the strands around his finger, and Lucas slips his hand under Renjun’s sweater to hold his waist. 

“Your skin’s really warm,” Lucas says, kissing the corner of Renjun’s lips. “You need,” he kisses the other corner, hand lowering to hold onto the hem of Renjun’s black hoodie, “to take this off, I think.”

“Oh yeah?” Renjun asks, lifting his arms above his head.

“Yeah,” Lucas says, breaking apart. He pulls the sweater over Renjun’s shoulders and lets it fall to the floor. “That’s better.”

Of all the ways for them to makeout in their apartment, sitting on an elevated surface is Renjun’s favourite: on the kitchen counter, the bathroom sink, on top of Lucas’ desk or leaning against the dining room table. Lucas can pick him up and plop him anywhere like it’s nothing. It’s one of the few ways Renjun gets to be eye-to-eye with him, able to directly meet his face. He always takes the opportunity to read Lucas’ expression and every time he’s met with the same sort of smile, full of adoration, and the same fire behind his eyes, burning in his irises like he wants to devour _more_ , take everything Renjun is willing to give him.

Lucas devotes himself to sucking a hickey on the skin just below Renjun’s ear, alternating between quick licks of his tongue across the skin and pressing bruising kisses along his neck. Renjun would love to stay here, spend the rest of his day on the kitchen counter as Lucas paints his skin in delicate shades of purple and pink, but the couch is _right there_ and the bulge protruding from Lucas’ boxers is so, _so_ inviting.

“Carry me to the couch,” Renjun whispers, tugging on Lucas’ hair. He searches for his eyes again before adding a soft, “please.”

Lucas wastes no time to pick up Renjun by his thighs, one hand firmly squeezing his ass as he brings him to the couch. The cushion underneath Lucas dips under their weight as he sits down.

Renjun settles on top of him, legs straddling either side of his lap. He licks his lips once, coating them in a thin layer of saliva before pressing a kiss on his lips.

“Nice hair, by the way,” Lucas comments, tongue moving across the seams of Renjun’s lips. He nibbles on Renjun’s bottom lip, playful nips on the skin. “Grey ponytail. It’s sexy.”

Lucas’ free hand finds the back of Renjun’s head and tugs on his small ponytail, gentle enough to leave Renjun a little breathless and a lot turned on. The hair tie falls to the floor and Lucas buries his hand deeper in Renjun’s silver locks, nails raking through his hair.

“Thanks,” Renjun hums, satisfied with the positive reaction. Growing his hair has been a long-term endeavour and feeling the fruit of his labour being appreciated is more than he could’ve asked for: Lucas’ fingers carding through his hair, pulling him close with every kiss. It’s delightful.

The dye job, though, was definitely impulsive. He’ll have to thank Dejun for the suggestion.

Beneath his thigh, Lucas’ hard-on becomes unignorable — he ruts down on his lap, rocking his hips against Lucas. Lucas arches back and Renjun takes the chance to sneak a hand between their bodies, lightly grazing his fingers down Lucas’ abs and crotch, gentle fingertips along the length of his bulge. He climbs off his lap to kiss down Lucas’ chest toward his hips, motivated by every moan escaping his lips. Renjun reaches Lucas’ thick thighs, all firm and smooth and muscley, and nearly drools as he lowers himself to the floor to kiss along his inner thighs, upwards to his crotch. He pushes aside his boxers and sucks a bruise there, making Lucas tremble with every sloppy kiss on his skin.

Renjun palms over Lucas’ boxers, feeling the outline of his cock. He looks up and watches as Lucas watches _him_ , his hand and the way it ghosts so slowly over the fabric.

“Renjun.” Lucas bites his lip. “Please.”

He pulls down the elastic of his boxers, peeling it off Lucas’ legs and abandoning it next to the couch. Renjun plants himself between his legs, sitting on the floor as he strokes Lucas’ dick, smearing the precum over his hands.

It feels _so_ much better than he remembers, so thick and warm in his hands. Renjun spits into his palm to add more wetness and continues his tempo, working his grip slowly from the base up. Lucas keeps swallowing hard, groaning with every few strokes.

“Fuck,” he grunts, gripping onto nothing. Renjun loves the encouragement, uses it to put more force and speed into jerking off Lucas.

He sticks out his tongue to lick Lucas’ head, lapping at the slit. Lucas searches for Renjun’s hair and tugs, eyes screwed shut.

“Please,” Lucas begs.

Renjun continues stroking Lucas, paying no mind to his request. “Please what?” He teases. “Tell me what you want, Xuxi.”

Lucas looks down at him with with desperation written all over his face. “Please suck me off.”

Renjun simply nods, a pleased little smile as he looks up from his spot on the floor and makes eye contact with Lucas. He keeps it there as he licks from the base of Lucas’ long cock, up to the tip, and dips his tongue against his slit. Lucas shakes from the stimulation, bucking his hips up from the slow pressure.

The sight of Lucas’ face when Renjun takes him in his mouth is downright divine. It makes up for all the months he’s spent alone in that apartment, so many miles away from here, touching himself to the thought of pleasuring Lucas again. Lucas’ head falls back against the back of the couch, breath hitching when Renjun takes more of him into his mouth — nothing in his imagination could compare to how immaculate it is to see Lucas fall apart under his touch.

Renjun begins to bob his head up and down, closing his eyes to focus on pressing his tongue along Lucas’s cock. His hand works along the length that he can’t reach with his mouth, stroking in time.

“So good,” Lucas says, reaching down to stroke Renjun’s cheek. “You feel so, _fuck_ , so good.”

Renjun hollows his cheeks and flits his tongue against Lucas’ tip. He tilts his head to ram Lucas’ cock against the roof of his mouth, moaning around his cock.

Lucas is heaving when Renjun pulls off and climbs back up to the couch, sitting in his lap again. His chest is rosy and warm underneath the soft grey shade of Renjun’s sweater, flush all on display. Renjun pushes the sweater off Lucas’ shoulders, one sleeve then the other, and tosses it next to the coffee table, leaving him naked. 

He holds Lucas’ face and kisses him with swollen lips, wet with saliva. He pulls back to look at Lucas, already so gone, eyes hazy with lust. Renjun’s about to slide off Lucas’ lap and continue his mission of giving Lucas _the best blowjob ever_ when Lucas finds his waist and guides him to lay on the couch.

Lucas cages him in with his body and arms, surrounding him on all sides. It’s almost overwhelming to suddenly be this close to him: a week ago Renjun would have dreamed of moments like this, wake up to the memory of Lucas in his sleep, being with him. Now he lays beneath him in their home, sweaty and breathless and so turned on, and it’s like he never even left: today’s just another Friday and they’re hot and horny, fooling around on their couch just because they _can_. Nothing’s in the way to stop them.

The sun filtering through their living room window falls upon Lucas’ face, bringing out the deep brown in his eyes and all the striations within his irises. Renjun lifts his hand to cup Lucas’ cheek, hoping that the adoration he has for Lucas is visible in the dilation of his eyes and the width of his smile. If eyes are the windows to the soul then Renjun lives with his shutters always open, bearing himself for Lucas as the light seeps in.

Lucas kisses him once on the lips before following a path down Renjun’s body, stopping to adorn his collarbone and chest and stomach. An eternity passes as he dedicates some time to licking Renjun’s hipbone before he pulls down his shorts and boxers in one quick motion, revealing his hard cock.

“I’ve missed this,” Lucas says, taking Renjun in his hands. “So much. I wish I could’ve cloned your dick for myself.”

Renjun laughs because the thought is still hilarious to him. A replica of _his_ dick. 

But it isn’t a bad idea.

“If you ever go away for a work trip,” he decides, rubbing Lucas’ arm. “I’ll make a dildo for you.”

Lucas grins, giddy and knowing. “Good luck with that.” He holds Renjun’s cock in his hand again, positioning his lips around the head of his dick. “It wasn’t easy.”

Renjun sucks in a breath as Lucas takes his head in his mouth because _fuck_ , does he know how to put his big mouth to good use. Lucas isn’t as merciful on Renjun, not bothering to slowly work up to the pace he likes. Instead he engulfs Renjun’s cock in the wet heat of his mouth, swirling his tongue and bobbing his head tight and fast.

Lucas looks up at Renjun through his lashes, big eyes trailing up every inch of Renjun’s body. The corners of his eyes crinkle into a smile and he fucking _waves_ at Renjun with his free hand, a small hello from where Renjun’s spread for him on the couch, and it’s ridiculous because Lucas is so charming and eager to please him that it’s kinda cute anyway. Silly and cute and Renjun is so hopelessly in love with Lucas that he’s feeling flustered over _that_. Embarrassing.

One of Lucas’ hands then moves to play with Renjun’s balls, toying with them in his hand as he dips down to swirl his tongue over them. He suddenly forgives Lucas for being silly in the midst of things because he knows how to move his tongue exactly how Renjun wants it and he does it so well.

“Xuxi,” he whimpers. “Come here.”

Lucas lays on top of him and Renjun grips Lucas’ ass hard in his hands, pressing their hips closer together. Their kiss tastes so slick and sweet against his mouth, all swollen lips and wet tongue. Precum drips onto Renjun’s stomach and he just _wants_ Lucas. Right now.

“Get the lube,” Renjun asks, lips brushing Lucas’ ear. “It’s in my suitcase.”

For a brief moment Renjun shivers on the couch, waiting for Lucas to find the bottle in his suitcase. He decides to grab the sweater off the coffee table, wrapping it over his body while he waits. The heat of sex isn’t enough to get rid of how easily he gets cold. 

Lucas comes back with a wide smile, radiant. “You used a lot of it,” he says, gesturing at the near-empty bottle of lube.

“Two years! I missed you.” Renjun pulls the sweater over him a little tighter, holding onto warmth. His thumbs play with the drawstring of the hoodie. “Your gift was very well loved. Thanks again.”

Lucas takes off the sweater from Renjun’s chest and gives him a hug, warming up his body from the cold exposure. He bends down and kisses Renjun in the center of the forehead, loud and obnoxiously wet. “You’re welcome.” He pumps some lube onto his fingers, coating them until he’s satisfied. “But we won’t have to use that anymore.”

Lucas adjusts himself on the couch and leans down to lick Renjun’s rim, what the _fuck_ , before he inserts his first finger inside him. It slides in with ease and Renjun purposely clenches around Lucas’ finger, letting him know that he wants _more_ , he’s waited too long for this.

He keeps his eyes on Renjun as he fucks him, gauging his reaction before carefully inserting another. Lucas’ long fingers fill him up so well on their own, the ridges of his knuckles gliding against his walls. He feels for the spot inside him and curves the tips of his fingers ever so slightly, hitting Renjun’s prostate.

Always full of surprises, Lucas leans forward and sucks on Renjun’s dick again, thrusting his fingers as he laps at his head.

“Fuck,” Renjun cries out. “Fuck, Xuxi, please, please, please, please—” he babbles, too disoriented from the stimulation to form a full thought. Renjun looks down at Lucas with pleading eyes, “please.”

Lucas kisses the tip of Renjun’s dick, all loving and tender, then gently pulls out his fingers from Renjun’s hole. His dick twitches as he watches Lucas coat himself with lube, liberal as his hand glides around it.

Heat emanates from Lucas' flushed cheeks. His face is right by Renjun's when he presses the head of his dick against Renjun, teasing around his rim by smearing the lube. He guides himself into Renjun with caution, so incredibly careful when he pushes in, and groans straight into Renjun’s ear, breath tickling his neck.

In theory, Renjun’s body is used to this sensation: Lucas’ cock stuffed inside him, stretching him out and filling his walls completely. But _this_ , this is so different — so amazing and exhilarating and perfect. Lucas works slow, barely any movement at all when he shallowly thrusts his hips, but it’s enough to make Renjun dizzy with desire, beg him for more. He could never get enough.

There’s a façade of composure over Lucas’ face that breaks with each push deeper, every thump of his heartbeat a betrayal as it batters incessantly against Renjun’s chest. Renjun looks at Lucas, vision focusing straight into his eyes, and mutters out his request, just loud enough for him to hear past the buzzing in his ear: “more, Xuxi, faster.”

Lucas moves his hand to hold Renjun’s thigh, adjusting their angle, and searches Renjun’s face once more, making sure this is alright. When Renjun nods in response, his leg gets thrown over Lucas’ shoulder as he bottoms out, ramming himself hard into Renjun.

It’s all black and buzzing for a moment as Renjun relishes in the bliss of Lucas thrusting into him, dazed on the fullness as Lucas pelvis’ presses directly against his. He slides almost all the way out, leaving just his tip inside, before thrusting hard again. Renjun cries out, moans broken and loud.

Then everything is erratic and fast and rough, so rough as Lucas slams himself into Renjun over and over.

“Yes, yes,” Renjun moans, his lips against Lucas. “Fuck, yes, fuck me so good.”

Lucas pants into him, barely kissing back, too concentrated on fucking Renjun how he likes it. Sweat clings onto his skin, heating up his neck and chest as he keeps up the rough pace. Renjun hungrily licks up the thick vein along the side of Lucas’ throat.

“Let me ride you,” Renjun whispers into Lucas’ skin, pressing his hand on Lucas’ chest. His words break the haze in Lucas’ eyes, recentering his focus. Lucas pulls out, making Renjun whimper at the loss, and positions himself to lay down on the couch.

Renjun adjusts himself on Lucas’ lap, holding onto his boyfriend’s shoulders as he slides down on his cock. It fills him in a new way, more pressure against all his nerves as he bounces himself on Lucas’ lap. Lucas holds onto Renjun’s ass, nails digging into his skin, spreading his cheeks apart.

Renjun’s completely breathless, gasping for air as he sets the rhythm, building his orgasm. He revels in how wonderful it feels, how glorious it is to feel this good.

“You take me so well,” Lucas coos, biting his bottom lip. “You missed this? Missed riding me like this?”

“Yes, yes,” Renjun mumbles, barely forming words. “Missed taking your cock in me.”

Lucas slaps his ass, just enough to leave his cheek red with sensitivity, and Renjun loves the sound it makes, the shiver that it sends up his spine.

Lucas takes to caressing Renjun’s sides with his hands held on his hips and waist. Renjun’s thighs start to tremble as he sinks down on Lucas’ cock, already feeling the tension building in his stomach, so close to the edge. Lucas firmly grips him in place, taking control of their rhythm as he thrusts up, snapping his hips faster and faster until Renjun spills cum onto both their bodies, nerves tingling through his whole body as the pleasure wracks through him.

Renjun collapses onto Lucas’ body with his hands holding his face to kiss Lucas on the lips. Just as he’s recovering from his orgasm, Lucas thrusts hard into him, overstimulation sending electricity through his skin. Lucas cums with a string of “fuck, Renjun, fuck” moaned into Renjun’s mouth, filling him up with white heat.

For a while it’s just warm breaths and the weight of Lucas’ soothing hand running along Renjun’s back. Renjun peppers lazy kisses all over Lucas’ face, small pecks of appreciation on his nose and cheeks and jaw.

“I love.” He kisses shoulder. 

“You.” His neck. 

“So much.” Finally, on his lips.

Lucas deepens the kiss, needy for more. Renjun indulges him, licking into his mouth and kissing him without a care in the world, drunk on the sensation.

They slow down with their pulse, hearts no longer pounding in their chests. Renjun eyes flutter open to meet Lucas’. He’s already looking at Renjun with love-crumb eyes and a barely-there smile on his lips, nothing more than the upward curve at its edges. 

Renjun kisses Lucas once more, lips lingering for a moment before he lifts himself off Lucas’ lap and stands up with wobbly knees. He runs a finger through the mess on Lucas’ stomach and sticks his cum into Lucas’ mouth. 

“And?” Renjun looks expectantly at Lucas, waiting for an answer.

“You taste just like I remember.”

Renjun smiles, exasperated because the flustered feeling comes back and his stomach flips. Lucas and his sweet words — they never fail.

Lucas gets off the couch with the aid of Renjun’s hand in his, pulling him to stand. There’s sweat all across his back and down his temple, glistening in the sunshine. Their fingers intertwine and Lucas lifts their hands to kiss the tops of Renjun’s knuckles.

“Let’s get cleaned up, baobei. We’ve still got dishes to do.”

Renjun follows behind, letting his boyfriend guide him to the bathroom. He admires the shade of his skin, all glowy under the light, and imagines the feeling of his spine against his fingertips, all the bones and muscles and nerves down his back. His eyes trace the slope of Lucas' broad shoulders, shifts his gaze to trail down his arms, until he reaches Lucas’ wrists, his hands, his fingers. How perfectly they fit with his own.

Lucas looks back at Renjun and smiles. Pure radiance.

 _This is love_ , Renjun thinks to himself. It’s here: found inside the blown out darkness of Lucas’ pupils and between the strands of hair that sit atop his forehead. It’s cooked on their kitchen counter and it’s steeped in a cup of green tea. It’s wrapped in a black box with a red ribbon and it’s mailed in a white envelope and it's held in his hand, flowing through his fingertips. Love is here.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> aaaaand that wraps up the longest fic i've ever written! thank you for reading :)
> 
> special shoutouts to sam for beta-reading and to the wonderful erika for all the encouragement as i wrote this. i love u ♡
> 
> some details that i didn’t make it into the fic:  
> \- renjun is 22 and lucas is 23 at the beginning of the fic  
> \- renjun goes to school for a master’s of physical therapy program in north america  
> \- the kit that lucas uses to make the dildo for renjun is a [real thing](https://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/a15831043/clone-a-willy-experiment-essay/). he deserves the partner of the decade award for making it on his own.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/boyfrendery) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/boyfrendery)


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